Page 15 of Alpha's Heir

Weston's brow furrowed, a shadow passing across his face. "You're talking about venturing deeper into the forest while you're pregnant? Absolutely not."

My blood boiled. "I'm not some fragile vase, Wes. This is our pack. Our family. We can't just sit around and wait to be picked off one by one."

"I know that," he retorted, frustration evident in his voice. "But I won't have you risking yourself and our child. We'll find another way."

A defiant fire ignited within me. "If you won't go with me, then I'll go alone."

His expression darkened, and he closed the gap between us, his blue eyes locked onto mine. "I won't let you go alone. And if that means I have to glue myself to your side to make sure you don't leave, so be it."

We stood there, nose to nose, both our tempers flaring. The tension in the room was palpable. My heart raced, not from anger, but from fear and desperation. We were at an impasse, both unwilling to budge.

"You're being unreasonable, Wes," I said, my voice low and fierce.

"And you're being reckless," he shot back.

My eyes stung, tears threatening to spill. "Damn it, Weston, I can't stand the idea of losing anyone else. And with the baby... God, what kind of world are we bringing them into?"

He softened, his fingers brushing a stray tear from my cheek. "I know, Cora. But I can't bear the thought of losing you."

My resolve wavered, and I sank into one of the chairs, burying my face in my hands. "I just want to do something," I whispered.

Weston knelt in front of me, taking my hands in his. "I know, love. We'll find a way, together."

"We'll face this darkness together."

His hands reached for mine, gently pulling me into an embrace. I buried my face into his chest, the rhythmic beat of his heart providing a momentary solace.

"Come with me," he whispered, leading me upstairs. Our steps echoed through the dimly lit hallway, ending at the bathroom door.

The room was warm, filled with the soft glow of candlelight. Steam wafted up from a tub filled with water, the surface shimmering with the light of floating candles. The scent of lavender and chamomile filled the air, a balm for my frayed nerves.

Weston guided me to the edge, carefully helping me step into the bath. The warm water enveloped me, seeping into my tired muscles, coaxing them to relax. He joined me, gently cupping water in his hands and pouring it over my shoulders and back. The touch was both tender and therapeutic, a quiet promise that he was there, with me, through thick and thin.

As we soaked, the tension in my body began to melt away. His fingers gently massaged my scalp, and I leaned into his touch, seeking solace. The world outside—the challenges, the fear, the unknown—faded away for those precious moments.

But as the night wore on, and sleep eluded me, a plan formed in my mind. The desperation, the need to protect my family, it pushed away any doubts. I resolved that the moment an opportunity presented itself, I'd slip away and find that guardian. With or without Weston.

Chapter eight

Weston

Lyinginthestilldarkness, the silence of the night was a stark contrast to the turmoil twisting inside me. Beside me, I could hear the subtle shift of sheets as Cora stirred, her soft breaths a reminder that neither of us had found sleep.

"You awake?" My voice was a hoarse whisper in the dark.

"Yeah," she murmured back, her voice laced with a weariness that matched my own.

I turned on my side to face her, the pale moonlight spilling through the window, outlining her silhouette. Her eyes, bright even in the dimness, met mine with a mix of determination and the same crippling doubt that was eating at me.

"How are we going to do this, Cora?" I asked, my voice barely a breath as I sat up, resting my head in my hands. The weight of leadership felt like a yoke around my neck, heavy and unrelenting. "They can be anyone, take anyone... We're supposed to protect them, but how do you fight an enemy that can turn your own people against you?"

Cora shifted closer, her hand finding my back, rubbing in small circles. "I don't know, Weston. I really don't."

The honesty of her admission was a cold splash of reality. I felt my jaw clench, a mixture of fear and anger simmering beneath the surface. It wasn't just about us anymore; it was the whole pack, our future, our unborn child. Everything was at stake, and the helplessness was suffocating.

Her hand paused on my back, and I felt her sit up. "We've faced tough shit before. This... this is just another huge pile of it. But we're not alone in this. We have the pack, our friends, each other..."

I let out a bitter chuckle, the sound muffled by the night. "Yeah, until one of them turns into a damn shadow and decides to hop ship. It's like we're fighting ghosts, Cora. They strike, and then there's nothing, no one to fight. Just... shadows and loss."

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